She left the ladies room and was walking down the hall on her way back to the wedding, when, without warning, a hand reached out of a doorway, snagged her wrist and pulled her into a narrow dark room. Before she could utter a word of protest, her mouth was covered, in a deep, punishing kiss that literally took her breath away.
There was no light in the room. Since her eyes had not adjusted to the dark, she could not see the man whose lips were grinding against hers. But she didn’t need to see. Because she had everything about him imprinted on every inch of her mind and body. It was as if she had been bewitched by black magic she thought wildly, as she dragged her fingers through his hair and pressed her body even tighter against his. Obviously, she had fallen prey to his seductive methods.
Somehow he knew her sexuality had rarely been given the opportunity of showing itself. What little experience she had had in that department - infrequent, rapid, mechanical operations, that she had come to regard as somehow dirty - had rarely satisfied her. Using her simplicity to his advantage, an unfamiliar spark had been kindled in her, one that drove her insane with every touch.
From the second she had met him, she had fallen under his spell. He was a rebel all rolled into one dark, dangerous, smoldering package. She could feel his eyes boring into the back of her neck. He gave her the creeps in a shadowy riveting way when he stared at her like that. Knowing her vision would soon adjust in the dark, he blindfolded her with a handkerchief concealing his identity. Everything he seemed to do would eccentrically stimulated her. She still wore the smile she'd been intensively persuaded to maintain at all times as she peered straight in to the dark unknown.
Feeling hot and aroused she had lost complete awareness of herself, and her surroundings. With paralyzing fingers he quickly felt his way up her thighs lifting her garment. Unable to stop him, she helplessly gave in. With one knee on the desk, and the other leg stretched straight touching the floor; with her back arched towards him, pulling her hair, he easily slid himself inside her in the dark, with her body completely under his control. Thrust upon thrust she began to climax with every stroke, her eyes started to flutter, as she moaned and ruptured with extreme sensation unlike anything she’d felt before. He rode her body like a massager on a swift horse hasty to deliver a sensual gift.
It was only when he got out that she realized things were different, when he stopped, when she regained her normal state of consciousness, and uncovered her eyes.
Oh, the noise! It's been so quiet all this time, she whispered. The unbelievable sensation must have allowed me to forget I was trapped, let me drift away into a world of my own, to wait for the end to come almost without fear. Now this!
God, it was dark, cold too. Though most of all, it was so creepy. Without the benefit of light to soften the shadows, the objects around her looked frightening. She had to do something. She could not just sit there letting her imagination run rampant. She was beginning to think the room was shrinking, squeezing her ... and didn't something move just then? There, where it was darkest of all.
Feeling uncomfortably like he was trespassing, or conspiring against something that didn’t belong to him anymore, he reached out tentatively to touch that which a short while ago he had been moving about in.
You’re so quiet - too quiet, she fearfully murmured. Are you always like this? There's not a sound anywhere: it's like the whole room had become him. It's so eerie. I like it: I never knew there was so much pleasure in darkness.
As he stood waiting, she experienced a loneliness and isolation she had never felt before. How much longer would he take? In an attempt to subdue her worried impatience, she studied her surroundings again. The room was pitch black, there was little to distract her.
This was no good. She had to get a hold of herself. Her hand went to the door handle, moved away, then returned. There were only two options: stay where she was and pray someone found her before she became a gibbering wreck, or get out of the horror and try finding a way out of this damned room on her own.
Stop it! She screamed, forcing her eyes forward. She was just tired. She had been afraid long enough and her weary mind was playing tricks on her. She was going crazy with the need to see him, touch him, and hear his voice.
It felt like he had been standing there, shuffling from one foot to the other, for two hours or more. In reality, it had probably been no longer than two or three minutes; still a long time to be kept waiting in unfamiliar surroundings. He switched his gaze back on the only item of furniture in the room, the long, heavy checkered wooden desk he was standing a few feet in front of. Then, poof! He suddenly vanished.
Unexpectedly, she was snatched from her dilemma of a nerve-racking experience back into this one by the sudden intrusion of a rough, deep voice: “Time is up”
Startled, she looked up to find herself confronted by the largest man she had ever encountered. He was large both in height and width; he completely blocked the entrance of the room and towered over her like a huge building. "Time is up" He boomed, his voice seeming to emerge from a dark, subterranean depth. He reached a long way down and patted me on the shoulder with a hand like a shovel as if she was a toy dog. Without further ado and completely uninvited by her, he somehow contrived to install his bulk into the seat opposite of her, pushing the desk towards her, thus trapping her in her own corner.
To say she was shocked would be an understatement; she was horrified, appalled, sickened and revolted. What had the horrible mountain of a man meant by such words?
She mumbled with a weak voice,"Ah, hello there, er...” can you please turn on the light first?
Before she could finish the sentence, the mountain was gone, and the lights were turned on.
She looked around the room; at the dust on the sideboard; at the fly happily wallowing in it; at the broken table; the upset ornaments; the blood stains in the carpet; the grimy windows; the filthy curtains; the long-dead flowers in the vase on the once-shiny-screened TV. As her eyes absorbed the degeneration of her surroundings, she sobbed while her hands trembled with shock from the blood she saw on her wedding dress. The very last remains of her innocence fell to the floor to join the accumulated jumble there.
Dead at 22………………
Try to figure out the moral and purpose of this story……..if you can!
Hint: Think outside the box "Angel of death, deception of Satan, and that death is inevitable."
